#Oct 11th to Nov 24th 2019 at PuraCal, Lx Factory, Lisbon

 

What lines are drawn by my eyes, on ocher lands?

What sents can you hear from my fruity red lips, beyond cold?

What tropic holds my hand, on reliefs of salty desert?

I cast my eyes , through those who see beyond.

I breath to the depth of me and blow out the beauty of all races, from a world i never saw.

I feel all the lands of the earth in every pore of my skin and on every line of my fingers.

Every sound is raw and so i seat next to my senses to try to aknowledge the coordinates of the path. Hence, i go forth.

I dance along with my godess hands, to the rhythm of the wheel. And that’s how i tell these stories.

The shades of the world are cooked on my skin.

Stories from other sites and landscapes are stitched on my pores.

And so my oven becomes the oven of a god.

 

Copy by Cuca Carou